


A Broken Cup

by GhostIsReading



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cannibalism, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Will Graham, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is his own warning, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Will Graham Knows, Will makes dumb decisions, fake dating au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostIsReading/pseuds/GhostIsReading
Summary: Dr Hannibal Lecter, Chesapeak Ripper and Serial Killer owned a Bentley. Used said Bentley to cart around the bodies of his victims and had thus far been uncaught. Of course that is if you didn’t count Will Graham, profiler and FBI Criminal Psychology Professor, discovering him when he was hiding a corpse of his own.Fake Dating au because they need an alibi for murder.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 112
Kudos: 837





	1. Gone To The Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal in any capacity.

Will hadn’t really meant to kill his Dog Groomer. If he had to describe it to his students in the FBI college, he would have called it a case of Second Degree murder. This was because although it was not premeditated, he did indeed intend to inflict grievous bodily harm on Mr Ronald Weston. Mr Weston was a Dog Groomer that did home visits which was rather handy for Will as he didn’t often have time to drag all six of his dogs to the groomers on a regular basis, it was just much easier for the groomer to come to him. He had employed Mr Weston’s services for only a few months when he arrived home from work at the college earlier than usual and found the man hitting Buster. 

Will saw red. 

So yes, Will murdered the Dog Groomer. He only wished that he had beaten him to death with his fists rather than stabbing him. It would have been poetic justice. 

It was easier than it should have been to clean up after stabbing the man to death. He was well versed in forensics and knew how to make sure that there was no evidence of the crime to be found. There was the issue that it would be down in Mr Weston’s work diary that he was coming to Will’s place and he would need to get rid of the car… 

He wrapped the body in a tarp and shoved it into the man’s own car. It was a hideously yellow Mini which meant that it was rather distinctive. He rolled up the bathroom mat which the majority of blood had landed before scrubbing the floor with bleach. He took the bloodied mat out the back and put it in the trash can before dousing it in petrol and lighting it on fire. It seemed to take an age to burn down but eventually all that was left were ashes. To further hide the ashes, after he dumped a cup of water in the can to make sure all the fire was out, he took out his trash from the kitchen and filled it. 

He checked on his dogs. Thankfully they all seemed to be okay. Buster wasn’t hurt despite how nasty the hit had looked. Will sagged in relief and spent a few moments fussing over all of them before refilling their water and food bowls. He made sure the front door was locked behind him. The evening was far from over. He had a car and body to hide. 

In the end he decided to drive the car for a few miles. The body in the trunk of the car weighed heavily on Will’s mind and he desperately hoped that he wouldn’t be pulled over by the police for any reason so he made sure to keep to the speed limit. Two service stations away from his home he finally pulled over. He would think about how he would get home afterwards. He could only focus on what he was doing at that moment, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He had never felt so alive. 

There was only one other car in the lot and it was rather fancy looking. Other than giving it a cursory look Will ignored it. The owner was most likely in the rest stop. It was too dark to see if there was anyone in the car so it was definitely too dark to see Will clearly. 

Will pulled the body from the trunk, grunting at the weight, his right rotator cuff straining. Thankfully Mr Weston hadn’t been a large man. It took a little maneuvering but He had the tarp-wrapped body over his good shoulder in a fireman’s lift as if it was a heavy sack of potatoes. 

A car door slammed. 

Will froze. It felt as if his heart had stopped. Slowly he turned towards the noise and saw a shadow of a man pulling something eerily similar to what Will had over his shoulder, out of the trunk of the fancy car he had seen earlier. What were the chances of two murderers disposing their victims in the same place at the same time? Apparently quite high. 

The crunch of gravel under foot filled the air as the man approached Will with his own corpse wrapped in tarp. Will forced himself to breathe evenly so he wouldn't hyperventilate. Oh god, the man was coming towards Will instead of going on with his own business! Seriously, he felt like screaming at the guy, you do your business and I'll do mine. There was no need to- Will's frantic thoughts were cut off abruptly by the other man speaking. 

“Nice evening for a walk.” The man had a smooth voice with a slight european accent. He couldn't quite place where it was from though. 

“A bit cold.” Will shrugged his free shoulder wondering where they were going to go from there. His heart hammered in his chest. They were both clearly carrying corpses but it was too dark to see each other’s faces. He wished he had thought to bring along his gun. Will winced at that thought. He had already killed one man and suddenly he was willing to kill another?! He dropped out of the police force because he couldn’t fire his gun and yet here he was after stabbing a man for hitting his dog and thinking of killing another for having seen him trying to dispose of it. There was something seriously wrong with him. Maybe this time he would just use his hands, wrap them around the stranger’s throat and squeeze until the life left his eyes.

“I’ll be your alibi if you be mine?” The other man offered. 

Will recoiled in surprise. What the hell?! He had honestly not expected that. He was instantly suspicious. Surely a man with such a nice car wouldn’t need an alibi from some random bloke? He most likely had enough money to make the police look away. 

“Mutually assured destruction?” Will replied and was thankful that his voice came out clear and steady. It wasn’t a bad idea. Oh who was he kidding it was a terrible idea! How did he know if this guy was going to keep his word? He didn’t even know his name or anything about him or why he had murdered his victim. 

“Exactly.” Will had a feeling the man was smiling. “Dr Hannibal Lector, I would shake your hand but…” He trailed off. 

Now Will had the opportunity to give a fake name. He could just throw Dr. Hannibal Lecter under the bus if the police came sniffing but instead found himself giving his own name in return. 

“Will Graham.” Shit. 

“Pleasure.” 

“We uh, we should probably get a move on.” Will felt incredibly awkward and Mr Weston was starting to feel rather heavy in his good shoulder. 

“Of course.” Hannibal agreed. “I hope you don’t mind if I lead the way? We can display the bodies together which will make it more difficult to find the culprit.”

“Display?” Will repeated. “Why display? I had planned on just, I don’t know, burying the body.” What kind of a creep was this guy?! Then again Will didn't really have a leg stand on seeing as he was there for the same reason: body disposal. God he wished he had a drink.

“How pedestrian.” Hannibal tsked in disappointment as he strode ahead. “Tell me Will, what did that pig do that drove you to murder him. I am assuming that this is your first kill yes? So it must have been rather bad.” 

“I walked in on him hitting my dog.” Will sighed. Hannibal already knew his name, he might as well tell him. “He’s a home visiting Dog Groomer. I came home early and saw him hit my dog.” 

“How rude.” Hannibal commented. “This pig,” Will had a feeling that he was now speaking about his own victim. “Had the audacity to be rude to my receptionist. The poor dear was left distraught and I had to force her to take some paid leave. " He frowned." he wasn't even at my office for an appointment."

"Then he deserved it." Will drawled sarcastically but the retort seemed to go straight over Hannibal's head. 

"Precisely." 

Will rolled his eyes behind Hannibal’s back. “So what exactly are you a doctor of, Dr Lecter?” 

“I’m a psychiatrist.” Ugh. 

“I’m not sure I can be your alibi anymore.” Will couldn’t help but quip. “I don’t like psychiatrists.” 

“And what exactly do you do Mr Graham?” 

“I teach classes on how to psychoanalyze.”

“Ah here is perfect.” Hannibal announced instead of responding to Will. 

“Oh thank god.” Will dropped Mr Weston’s corpse on the ground with a groan and stretched his back. The weight had started to really hurt his back and pull on his rotator cuff injury. 

“Now let’s see what we have to work with.” 

As Hannibal unwrapped Will’s corpse from its tarp, he took the opportunity to pull out his phone and with the flash on he snapped a photo of Hannibal unwrapping said corpse. The flash lit up the little forested area. 

“Delete that Mr Graham.” Hannibal’s cold voice cut through the blinding darkness that descended after the flash had ended. Both had been blinded by the sudden light. 

“It is merely for insurance.” Will explained. 

Another flash filled the forest. 

“It is merely for insurance.” Hannibal paroted back. 

“Touché.” 

It was a tense standoff as they both waited for their eyes to readjust to the darkness but eventually they got back to work on displaying the bodies how Hannibal wanted. It was as Hannibal was arranging the bodies that Will finally realised who he was with. 

Dr Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeak Ripper. Shit. Play it cool Graham, it's bad enough that he knows that you know he is a murderer and has a photo of him, Will told himself sternly as he took a deep breath. He can't know. God he wished he had his knife or gun with him. 

Will helped the Ripper display the kills. It was beautiful. He had never had the chance to be at a Ripper's crime scene and had only seen photos so this was a real treat. He had gotten the chance to see art in the making. Will couldn't hold himself back, he was never good at being a bystander. 

Under torch light from their phones the two of them worked to twist and force the bodies into Hannibal's design. The corpse that Hannibal had brought was missing his tongue and lungs. 

"I took his tongue because of his rude thoughtless words." Will mumbled to himself as he slipped into the Ripper's head space. "I take his lungs as he does not deserve to breathe the same air as me." Will swayed on the spot like a pendulum. "The body is discarded on the floor because he is not worth my time." This one would not be found and seen as done by the Ripper, it was not one of his sounders. 

"My what an intriguing boy you are." An accented voice broke will from his trance. 

Will flinched as he found Hannibal in his face. His warm minty breath brushing across his cheek, rosy from the cold. He should take a step back. He really should and yet he couldn't make his feet move. 

"Haven't you ever heard of personal space?" He retorted instead of trying to deal with the comment. 

"Of course, my apologies." The Ripper took a step back. "How would you like your dog groomer displayed, dear Will?" 

Will was not going to think about what the term of endearment meant for him and instead focused on getting this over and done with, already he had been out here longer than he wanted. 

"He hit my dog." Will said slowly as an idea started to form. "I want him to take the form of the creatures he abused, humiliated and dehumanised." 

"So it will be done, dear Will." 

Will tried to convince that the shiver that ran down his spine was from the cold and not arousal from the dark and lustful tone that Hannibal used. It then occurred to him that so long as he kept the Ripper interested in him the safer he would be. 

Once finished they walked back to the parking lot in silence. The scene that they had left behind was burned into the back of Will’s eyelids. It was simply magnificent. The evil Dog Groomer was stripped naked and forced onto all fours, generic rope that could be found from any and all hardware stores was wrapped around his neck in a mimicry of a collar. And the  pièce de résistance was the broken branch that was shoved up the corpse’s anus to act as a tail. There was nothing sexual about it. It was merely done to finish the depiction of a dog. 

“I must ask whether that yellow monstrosity that you arrived in belongs to you?” Hannibal broke the silence as they reached the gravel parking lot. 

“No, it is, or rather was the Dog Groomers.” It brought up the question on how Will would be getting home. “I had planned on abandoning it here.” 

“Then let me wipe it down just to make sure that there is no evidence of your presence.” Hannibal offered. 

“I wouldn’t say no to using your equipment for it, but I would prefer to be the one who does it.” Will made sure to turn down the offer politely. From what he had gathered from Hannibal and his persona as the Chesapeake Ripper, was that he did not abide rudeness in any form. 

“Very well.” 

The entire time that Will was wiping down the inside of the car he felt Hannibal’s eyes on him with a dark intensity. When he felt that the car was free from any and all evidence that he had been inside it he stood back from the vehicle.

“I find myself curious, dear Will.” Hannibal spoke from behind him. “How exactly did you plan on returning home.” 

Now this was tricky to answer. If he said that he had planned to walk then that would let the serial killer know that he lived close but if he said that he didn’t know or he planned to call a cab that would make him look like a fool. 

“No matter.” The serial killer continued after Will did not answer. “I shall give you a lift and we can discuss the particulars of our alibis.” 

Was he really going to accept a ride home from a serial killer? To let said serial killer know where he lived? Was seriously that stupid or insane?!

“Okay, thanks.” Apparently he was. 


	2. Rude

Dr Hannibal Lecter, Chesapeak Ripper and Serial Killer owned a Bentley. Used said Bentley to cart around the bodies of his victims and had thus far been uncaught. Of course that is if you didn’t count Will Graham, profiler and FBI Criminal Psychology Professor, discovering him when he was hiding a corpse of his own. 

It felt like some bizarre nightmare. 

Will climbed into the passenger side of the Bentley and sunk into the heated seat. Hannibal climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. 

“Where to?”

Now here was yet another choice Will could make and change how his fate played out. He could give the man the name of a bar in the middle of high street in Baltimore and catch a cab back to his place. It would cost him an arm and a leg but then the Ripper wouldn’t be made aware of where he lived so that was a plus. One the other hand he could give him his address. 

Will gave Hannibal his address. 

“Very well.” They drove. “As for the alibis, how do you feel about being friends?”

“You were having dinner at my house.” Will said slowly, his mind moving quickly. He had chosen to go along with the Ripper’s desires on being each other’s alibis despite the fact that he could claim that the Dog Groomer had been and gone by the time he had arrived home. “We’ve been friends for a few weeks and I invited you over to meet my dogs.” 

“How many dogs do you have?”

“I have six.” 

There was a long stretch of silence. 

“Tell me about them.” Hannibal finally sighed. “I suppose I am going to need to be able to at least name most of them if asked.” 

“And get a little dog fur on you.” Will gleefully pointed out. He could tell that Hannibal was a bit of a clean freak. “After all, practically every surface in my home is covered in the stuff.” He delighted in the grimace that appeared on Hannibal’s face before he could hide it.

“So there are six.” 

“Yes, Buster, Max, Jack, Harley, Ellie and Zoe.” He smiled as he thought about his dogs. “Buster is a real terror, he’s a Jack Russel Terrier and always full of energy. Max is a collie and has almost as much energy. Jack is a Mutt and I’m not sure of his heritage at all but I think he’s a cross between a Bull Terrier and a Collie at least. Harley is another mutt but has a lot of Pit Bull Terrier in him. Then There’s my old ladies: Ellie and Zoe. Ellie is a yorkipoo who is rather grumpy and Zoe is a small white terrier with an underbite. She’s adorable and the dog I’ve had the longest.” 

“What, may I ask, is a yorkipoo?”

“It's a Yorkshire Terrier and Poodle cross.” Will couldn’t hide his amusement at the fact that the Ripper had just said ‘poo’. Was that childish of him? Yes. Did he care? After the night he was having? No, not at all. 

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Will’s Farm House. It looked rather rustic in the light of the Bentley’s headlights and Will felt the urge to lean over and turn them off. 

“We should exchange numbers.” Hannibal suggested while pulling out his phone. It was clearly less of a suggestion and more of a demand. 

Will was annoyed that he couldn’t think of any reason to deny him. He accepted Hannibal’s phone and handed over his own before adding his details to the man's contacts, then on a whim he deleted the photo that Hannibal had taken earlier. The man wouldn’t have evidence of Will’s presence at the crime scene anymore. He had a strong suspicion that the man was doing the same on Will’s phone, it certainly wouldn't surprise him. If anything he would be disappointed if the serial killer didn’t take the opportunity to get rid of the incriminating evidence. 

“If the police come knocking, I will tell them that the Dog Groomer never arrived and when they ask whether I have anyone that can confirm where I was, I will mention that I had a friend over.” Will announced as they traded phones back. “They will likely ask for your details so that they can confirm my story.” 

“Which I will of course confirm.” Hannibal nodded. “May I inquire as to what we would have had for dinner? I assume that you would have cooked?”

“Fish and uh.” He thought about what he would have made if he had caught some fish for the meal, which he would have done if he had a friend over. “Steak fries.” 

“Freshly caught or frozen?” Was that disdain he could hear in Hannibal’s voice at the idea of frozen fish?”

“Freshly caught.” 

“Good.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments more, it was awkward but yet not at the same time? Will wasn’t sure why he hadn’t climbed out of the car yet. 

“I’ll text you photos of my dogs with their names. If you’re my friend then you should be able to tell them apart.” He finally said before opening the car door. He probably didn’t need to send that much information to the man as the police weren’t exactly going to quiz him on Will’s dogs but he had a feeling that he would be seeing the man again and their fake friendship would be important later. 

“Of course.” Hannibal nodded. “Have a good night.” 

“Thanks, you too.” With that Will climbed out of the car and made his way up his porch. He watched as the Bentley pulled away and drove off before letting himself into his house, his dogs swarming him. It was a relief to be home and surrounded by his dogs. He felt exhausted now that the adrenaline was finally wearing off. He had killed a man. Displayed the body with the aid of the Chesapeak Ripper and even had said man’s number. It had been one hell of an evening. 

  
  


Will was woken by the knocking on his front door. He squinted at his alarm clock and saw that it was barely half past six in the morning. He would have had to get up shortly anyway so he couldn’t just ignore the door. He groaned as he untangled himself from his sheets and climbed over Max and Harley that had snuck onto his bed during the night. He stumbled blearily to the door and opened it with a yawn. At the sight of two uniformed officers the events of the night before came rushing back. 

“Officers?” Will hoped that his nerves were taken as surprise of finding the police at his door so early in the morning. 

“Are you Mr Will Graham?” One asked. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” His dogs at this point noticed that the door was open and surged past the three men to frolic in the yard. “Ah sorry, I’ve just woken and haven’t had a chance to let them out until now.” He apologised sheepishly at the looks of astonishment on their faces at the number of dogs. 

“That’s alright.” The other officer reassured him with a smile. “We’re sorry for appearing so early but we have some questions we would like to ask you.”

“Oh, would you like to come in?” Will offered. “It's a bit of a mess but would be more comfortable than standing out in the cold.” God, he never knew that he could be so polite before his coffee in the morning. Disgusting. 

“No that’s alright this shouldn’t take long.” 

“Did you have an appointment with Mr Ronald Weston yesterday evening?” 

“Yes but he didn’t turn up.” Will sighed. “I planned on calling him this morning to find out what happened and if unable to reschedule then at least ask for a refund.”

“Have you employed his services before?” 

“Yes, it's easier to have a dog groomer to come to me than drag this lot down to them.” Will gestured at the pack of dogs that were running around.” 

“Understandable.” The first officer smiled at the sight. 

“Where were you last night between 7 and 10pm?” 

“Here, I had a friend over for dinner.” Will frowned. “I’m sorry but has something happened to him? And am I being accused of something?” 

“His body was found late last night.”

“Well,” Will paused awkwardly. “I think I’ll forgo trying to get a refund.” He tried to joke but it fell flat. 

“We’re going to need your friend's details to confirm your story.” The officers were suddenly a lot less friendly. Damn it does no one appreciate black humour these days?

“Of course.” Will grabs his phone from where he left it near the door last night and reads out Hannibal’s phone number. “His name is Dr Hannibal Lecter.” 

“Thank you for your time.” The officer writing down the information says when he is finished. “But please do not leave town.” 

“Sure.” 

Once the police officers have left, Will calls his dogs back in to feed them and himself. It's a Saturday so he doesn’t have lectures to give and other than housework his day is free. As his dogs eat from bowls with their names on he snaps a photo and before he can change his mind he sends it to Hannibal. He also checks his photos to find that the photographic evidence from the night before had indeed been deleted. 

He takes all six of his dogs out for a walk. It's cold so he’s wrapped up warm but forgoes wearing gloves so it's easier to pick up and throw sticks. It also means that he won’t have to wash said gloves to get rid of the dog drool that transferred from the sticks. Once he had exhausted his dogs and got them back into the house Will decided that he needed to buy some groceries. 

It didn’t feel real. None of this felt real. He had killed someone last night and yet here he was looking at vegetables in a supermarket the morning after. It was surreal. He filled his trolley with all the food he needed: veg, fruit, rice, boxes of macaroni etc before heading to the checkouts. 

Will had just reached a checkout with a line that wasn’t too long when he was shouldered to the side and his space taken. 

“Excuse me?” Will almost snarled as he straightened his trolley. “Was that really necessary?”

“You snooze, you lose.” Came the arrogant response. 

Will’s grip on his trolley tightened until his knuckles went white. He joined a different queue but was silently fuming the entire time. How dare that man shove him in order to go in that line for the checkout. He ground his teeth in anger and wished that he had a knife or maybe a gun. He wanted to kill that man, he was so  _ rude _ . 

He froze. 

Wh-what was wrong with him?! He shouldn't want a man to die just because he was rude. That was a bit extreme. Killing a man because he hit his dog is one thing, but killing another because he shoved in front of him at the supermarket was a different story altogether. But the worse thing was that he didn’t feel guilty about his thoughts, he only felt guilty because he didn’t feel guilty. He paid and went home in a daze. He had never realised that he could be so cold. Sure he’s always been a surly bastard but never malicious or cruel so why didn’t he feel bad about wanting to kill people? 

Because it felt just. 

He arrived home and after putting his shopping away he lay down on his living room floor and let his dogs smother him. He needed their weight to remind him that he was real, that this was real and everything that had happened was real and not just occurring in his head. The smell of dog fur meant home and he relaxed under their attention. 

It was only when they wanted to go out that Will finally dragged himself up from the floor. 

“All right, all right.” He laughed, now in a much better mood. “Out you go.” He opened the door and watched as they raced out, Little old Zoe taking up the rear. She wasn’t as fast as the others in her old age. He drank a cup of coffee as he watched them with a smile when his phone went off with a text message alert. 

_ Hannibal: Thank you for the photo. _

_ Hannibal: The police contacted me this morning about your dog groomer, I’m sorry for your loss. _

_ Hannibal: Would you like me to help you find a new one? _

Will stared down at his phone and wondered what the hell he had gotten into before sighing and replying. Like he thought last night: The longer he kept the serial killer interested in him, the less likely he was going to be killed. 

_ Will: The dog groomer would have to make home visits. _

_ Hannibal: I will ask around and see if anyone would be willing to do so. _

_ Hannibal: To pay you back for dinner at your place last night, would you do me the honor of allowing me to host you for dinner this coming Thursday? _

Will sighed again and decided not to respond straight away. He already knew that he was going to accept the invite, after all it would even the playing field if he got to know where the other man lived but that didn’t mean that he wanted the man to think that was eager to spend time with him. 

He played with his dogs, fixed up an old motor he had stored in his barn and finally when he was sitting down to eat a meal of box macaroni and cheese, he replied. 

_ Will: Send me the address and I’ll be there. What time? Do I need to bring anything? _

Hannibal replied almost immediately. 

_ Hannibal: 8 o’clock sharp and just bring yourself.  _

_ Hannibal: I’ll send you my address closer to the time.  _

_ Will: Sounds good. _

He had a dinner date with a serial killer. 


	3. Friends For Dinner

The rest of the weekend and the time leading up to dinner with Hannibal passed quickly in its usual dull fashion. Nothing came of the police investigation into Ronald Weston's death. Will presumed that the second body probably threw them off Will's tail. He was however reluctant to admit this as it put him further into Hannibal's debt. 

It was rather surreal to be teaching about killers and how they think when he was now a killer. He found it easier and easier to slip into their mind frames and harder to get out of them. He had taken to snapping a rubber band around his left wrist to snap him out of it. He found that it worked by accident during his first lecture that Monday morning when he got a little lost in Ted Bundy's head. 

He had a rubber band around his wrist from the hand outs that he gave out at the start of the lecture. The band caught on his chair as he was pacing and snapped back when he changed directions. The sudden sharp pain grounded him and brought him back to his body and more importantly his own mind. It was a little bit too much like self harm for his liking but until he figured out a better method, it was going to have to do. The last thing he wanted to do was getting lost inside a killer's mind while he was in the FBI college. 

So the days until the fateful dinner with the serial killer passed quickly until Will was standing awkwardly in front of the man’s home in Baltimore. It was a rather impressive looking house and was probably worth more than he earnt in a year for just its upkeep. In his hands he clutched a rather expensive red wine. Sure Hannibal said not to bring anything but it would be simply rude to show up without something. Will didn’t know much about wine but a quick google revealed that La Rioja Alta Gran Reserva 904 2016 was a pretty good bottle. It was a little expensive but he was sure that he would appreciate it. 

Will had googled the good Doctor. Doctor Hannibal Lecter was a surgeon before becoming a psychiatrist and was a leading figure in Baltimore’s high society. He was often on the front page of the society pages, usually seen alone or with another well dressed patron of the arts at all sorts of gallas, operas and plays. He was a predator among the sheep, a wolf in sheep’s clothing as it were. And Will was likely the only one who knew and lived. To keep himself alive he would play whatever game Hannibal had in mind but at the same time he didn't think that the man would want him to be a mindless puppet. He needed to find the right balance, to stay alive. 

Hannibal opened the door exact twenty five seconds after Will had finally worked up the nerve to knock on it. He was dressed stupendously in a dark blue plaid suit. Was this man always so formal even in his own home? Will felt under dressed. 

"Will." Hannibal greeted him with a small staged smile. It was the same smile that the man wore in those society page photos. "I'm glad you were able to make it."

"I know you said not to bring anything but…" Will trailed off and held the bottle of wine out in front of him. 

"Oh." He blinked in surprise as he took the expensive bottle from Will and stepped back so he could enter. " La Rioja Alta Gran Reserva 904 2016, very well done Will. This is an excellent wine."

"Don't thank me, thank Google." 

"Here let me take your coat." Hannibal placed the bottle on the hallway table and then helped Will out of his coat. It was such a weirdly old timey fashioned thing to do and Will couldn't help but be charmed. Which was most likely the reason that Doctor Lecter did it. 

“You have a lovely home.” Will found himself falling back onto the standard guest script for a lack of anything else to say. It wasn’t as if it was a lie either. The entrance hall was rather grand with a high ceiling, dark wood flooring, the walls were half and half. The lower half of the walls had a white wooden paneling while the top half was painted a calming light blue. There was a chandelier esk light fitting filling the entrance hall with a brilliant but not blinding white light. It was all very posh and it suited the serial killer. 

“Thank you.” Hannibal seemed genuinely pleased by the compliment. “This way to the dining room, dinner will be ready shortly.” 

Will allowed Hannibal to guide him into the dining room, his large and warm on his lower back, exerting only enough pressure to guide him and no more. He put it down as yet another thing the doctor did to be charming and probably did it to all his guests. 

“Interesting.” Will commented as he scanned the room. It was quite unlike any dining room he had ever been in.

On one side was a herb garden, climbing up the wall as if the room opened out into a garden, the rest of the room was covered in wooden molding. The wooden molding was stained a deep indigo giving it the look of a night sky, the effect made the room rather dark but it was lit by an antler shaped light fixture that dangled in the center of the room over the long dark dining table. At the far end of the room above a dark, unlit fireplace was the rather indecent painting of ‘Leda and the Swan’. 

“Take a seat, and I will bring the food out shortly.” Hannibal gestured to one of the chairs which had a cutlery and a napkin set out. 

“Sure.” Will took his seat while Hannibal disappeared. 

Hannibal was quick to return with two plates of food. The smell reached Will first and his stomach rumbled in response. 

“It smells delicious.” He commented as the plate was put before him. It looked to be some kind of meat dish? There was a dark sauce covering it so he couldn’t tell what meat it was. 

“Coq au Vin.” Hannibal announced as he poured the wine that Will had brought. “A French dish of chicken braised with wine, lardons, mushrooms and garlic.”

“Well if it tastes as good as it looks and smells then count me very impressed.” Will commented as he accepted his glass. 

“Bon appetit.”

As Will took his first mouthful of the meet he realised that he wasn’t eating chicken. The ripper takes organs from his victims. What he knew of Hannibal did not suggest that he was keeping them as trophies...the man was eating them. He gazed down at his plate as he chewed his mouthful. He swallowed. Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeak Ripper, was a cannibal. 

“Do you feed all of your guests, human flesh?” He asked as he ate another bite of the ‘chicken’. He grew up with sparse food and hated to waste any, even if it was made from humans. He watched Hannibal’s chin as the man digested his words. 

“Oh you are brilliant.” 

“So that’s a yes then.” Will pointed out dryly. 

Hannibal just gave him a small smile and continued to eat. They ate the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence. Will cleared his plate. Sure, he was technically a cannibal now as well but damn it that man could cook! So far so good. Will seemed to be keeping the man interested in him. The more interesting he made himself the less likely he was going to become dinner. 

It was as they were eating dessert, some kind of French fancy name for fruit, meringue and ice cream, that Hannibal started up another conversation. 

“How do you feel about classical art?” He asked as he scented his wine. 

“As in stuff like Leda?” Will pointed his spoon at the painting hung on the wall across the room. “It's okay I guess. I don’t really think about it.” 

“If you are amiable, I would like it if you would accompany me to the opening of a new exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art, next Saturday evening.” 

Will paused his eating and looked at Hannibal, really looked at him. The man’s marron, almost red in this light, eyes were focused on Will’s face. He was leaning forward in his seat slightly to seem more engaging as if he was eager for Will’s response. Would the man be disappointed if Will gave in too easily? If he just said yes? Probably. 

“Will I be acting as your alibi for the evening?” He asked instead of saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’. 

“Indeed, I will need you to spend the night in my guest room.” There was a smirk playing around the man’s lips. 

Will groaned, his face heating as he realised what the implications of what Hannibal wanted to let others think. “Am I right in thinking that you wish to portray us as a couple?” 

“Why, what an excellent idea.” The man smiled with a little too much teeth. “It can be our first date.”

“I’m sorry Dr Lecter, but I don’t put out on a first date and I would hate for your friends to think that I’m easy.” Will shot back as his mind ran through several options. He could agree to this farce and it would also work in his advantage in case Will needed an alibi of his own again. Or he could say no. If he did say no though what would Hannibal do in response? Work harder to get Will to agree? Or accept it and start planning his death? 

“Well in that case my dear, are you free tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yes, if your only objection to the new exhibit is merely because you don’t wish to be known as ‘easy'.” He grimaced as he said the last word and Will struggled to keep a straight face. It was odd to hear the man use such a phrase. Sure he didn’t know Hannibal very well yet but it was clear just by the way that presented himself that he was very proper. “Then I merely have to take you in public before the opening.” 

This was starting to sound like a lot of effort for a fake relationship but if it kept Hannibal interested enough in him to keep him alive then so be it. 

“Alright, I’m free tomorrow after six. It’ll take me an hour to get home, plus twenty minutes to get ready and then another hour to drive into baltimore. So say half past eight?” Will gave in.

“Half eight it is. I’ll make reservations and text you the restaurant’s details later.” Will tried not to scowl at the rather smug look on his face. 

“It's a date.” 

  
  
  


The next evening came faster than Will would have liked. He only had two suits and one of which he had worn to the dinner with Hannibal last night. He sighed as he realised that he would need to invest in more of the blasted things if Hannibal was going to keep using him as an alibi and take him out to fancy places. Maybe he could convince the man to go fishing with him for their second date?

He froze at the thought. What was wrong with him? This was supposed to be a fake relationship so there was no need to go places with each other if it wasn’t going to be in public. So fishing was out unless they were going to go to a very public spot, which if they did then the fish were probably shit. He shouldn’t be wanting to spend time with a serial killing cannibal. 

He threw on his second suit and after making sure that the dogs had enough food, he called them back in from outside and got them settled for the evening before he finally left. He couldn’t take too long otherwise he would be late and that would be rude and as Hannibal eats the rude…

Thankfully he arrived at the restaurant in time. The restaurant was the Charleston, a high end restaurant which google rated highly. It had very good reviews but a glance at the online menus showed that each course was at least $28. It was going to be hell on his bank account. It did however serve southern food as well as the posh French stuff. Will couldn’t help but feel touched at the choice. 

Will walked into the restaurant and gave Hannibal’s name for the reservation. 

“Right this way sir.” The hostess smiled falsely at him before guiding him to a table at the back of the restaurant. A quick glance was all it took for Will to know that she was working here to pay her way through university, she was new and wasn’t used to wearing high heels. Her feet hurt. He blinked and tore himself away from her mind and fiddled with his glasses, eyes on the floor. 

“Will.” Hannibal’s voice brought his gaze up from the floor. Will had been taken to a table with a view of the Baltimore port. The lighting was just so, so they could still see the water even in the dark of the night. 

“Hannibal.” Will greeted his fake boyfriend in kind as he took a seat. 

“Do you have any wine preferences?” Hannibal asked as he retook his seat and picked up the wine menu. 

  
“Not really, I’m more of a whiskey drinker.” 

“Then I shall choose for us if that’s alright?”

“Sounds good.” Will fiddled with the cutlery on the table feeling awkward. Somehow this dinner felt more stiff and uncomfortable than the one they had shared the night before at the Ripper’s house. 

“We’ll have the Domaine de Chevalier (Pessac-Léognan) 2009,” Hannibal told the sommelier who had lurked near their table once he had seen that Will had sat down. 

“Very good sir.” 

“So,” Will started as he opened the menu. “Have been here before?”

“Yes, for meetings with colleagues.” 

“Wow, and I thought going to Wendy’s with the other lectures was high end.” He joked. 

“Your wine, sirs.” The sommelier was back. “Would you like to sample it first?” 

“Please.” Hannibal accepted a glass with two fingers of wine. He agitated the wine gently by swirling the glass and sniffed the wine before taking a sip. He had never seen someone look so elegant when testing wine. It was absurd. Will was too absorbed in watching him to notice that he was being offered the same. “Perfect, we’ll take it.” 

“Very good sir,” The sommelier then refilled Hannibal’s glass and it was then that Will noticed that he had been given one as well. Oops. He sheepishly handed the glass over to get it topped up before he had a sip. 

It was very fruity, the fruitiest white wine Will had ever drunk but it wasn’t bad. He still preferred whiskey. Once the sommelier left Will turned his attention to the menu despite already having decided what he would order. 

“What are you thinking of having?” Hannibal asked as he glanced at his own menu. “And don’t worry about the price, its my treat.”

“What, no.” Will instantly protested. “I thought we would be going dutch?”

“Of course not.” Hannibal wrinkled his nose. “It's a date and as I was the one to ask you to dinner, I will be the one to pay.” 

“But-”

“No buts.”

Will sighed, but told him what he had planned to order. “I like the look of the cornmeal fried oysters.” It wasn’t the cheapest option on the menu but was definitely not the most expensive either.

“An excellent choice.” Hannibal nodded approvingly “And for your other two courses?. “I will be having the pan seared sea scallops followed by the pan roasted wild Chesapeake Bay rockfish and the bittersweet chocolate tart for dessert.” 

“Three courses?” Will repeated in disbelief. This was going to cost the man an arm and a leg. 

“Yes.” Hannibal gave him a stern look that suggested that he would not take no for an answer and that he would order for Will if he had to. 

“All right.” He sighed and reopened the menu. “I’ll have the cornmeal fried oysters followed by the...grilled Scottish salmon and as for dessert...the sticky toffee pudding.” 

“Very good, Will.” Hannibal smiled pleased before signalling for a waiter and gave their orders. 

They sat in silence for a little bit after their orders had been given. Will just didn’t know what to say. What do you talk about to the man that helped you hide a murder, was your alibi and a serial killer himself? 

“So, tell me about yourself, Will.” Hannibal broke the silence. “You mentioned that you were a lecturer?”

“I teach at the FBI college.” Will said wryly. He was starting to notice that Hannibal liked saying his name. The man seemed to try and slip into every sentence aimed at him. “I teach Criminal profiling specifically.” 

“What drew you to that field of study?”

“I was originally a cop in New Orleans.” Will sighed. “I got stabbed and then when I tried to apply to be an agent for the FBI I didn’t pass the psych eval.” He summed up his professional life simply. “So as the saying goes, those that can’t do, teach.” 

“Why did you decide to be a cop in the first place?” Hannibal asked at the time that their first course arrived. 

“Thank you,” Will thanked the waiter and picked up his cutlery. “Well, I have an empathy disorder,” This will keep him interested, Will thought. “I can empathise with anyone. And I thought it would be useful in catching the bad guys.” He hated how juvenile that sounded but it was true. 

“And was it?” 

“It was as helpful as it was problematic.” He grimaced as he thought back on his time as a cop. “I wasn’t very good at keeping myself removed from the crimes and it eventually came to ahead when I wasn’t able to pull the trigger on the knife wielding thief. I knew that they were stealing the money to put their daughter through college and in my distraction he stabbed me.” He touched his shoulder. He remembered that night clearly and his old wound throbbed at the reminder. He shook the memory away. “Anyway, enough about me, what caused the change from surgeon to psychiatrist?” 

Hannibal allowed the subject change and Will tried not to let the fact that he hadn’t responded to Will’s back story. He could feel the man’s eyes on him the entire time he had spoken but he had not given the usual response of ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ or ‘Is your shoulder alright now? Or even ‘well maybe it's a good thing that you’re no longer in the field?” That last one came from Dr Alana Bloom. 

“I killed someone.” He took a sip of his wine. “Or rather I wasn’t able to save someone.” 

“I read that you were an ER surgeon so surely you had lost patients before?” Will pointed out. “Although I did find that you had the highest success rate.” He also really doubted that was the true reason, the man was after all a serial killer. It was however, not something he should point out in public.

“Then perhaps, a better way to phrase it is that I felt that I lost too many patients. As a psychiatrist, I have yet to have a patient die on me.” He smirked. 

“You’ll have to tell me more about it later.” Will gave him a pointed look making it clear that he did not believe that he was telling the truth. 

“Of course.” Hannibal nodded graciously. “How is the food?”

“It's delicious but not as good as yours.” He admitted and what did that say about him? That he preferred a meal where the meat was human to this delicious fish? 

“You flatter me, Will.” 

“Humbleness doesn’t suit you.” 

The other man laughed quietly. “Perhaps, but it would be rude to be boastful, no?”

“Heaven forbid,” Will rolled his eyes. 

The rest of the meal passed with pleasant light conversation and sooner than expected the meal was over and Hannibal was walking Will back to his car. 

“I had a wonderful time, Will.” 

“Me too.” Will replied truthfully. “There’s a nice public fishing spot that I like to frequent.” his mouth moved without his agreement. Damn it. This is a fake relationship, fake! He reminded himself but it was too late, the implied invitation was already out there. 

“That sounds lovely. Is this Sunday good for you?” 

Will realised that the man was taking advantage of the invite to get in another ‘date’ before the exhibit opening. 

“Yeah, Sunday is good. Meet at mine for 11am?” 

“It’s a date.” Hannibal repeated the same words that Will had uttered last night only he added something a little extra. 

Will felt the warmth on the corner of his mouth before he saw Hannibal move back and realized that the man had kissed him. It was only a brush of lips on the corner of his mouth but that still counted right? Right?! 

“Good night, Will.” 

“Night.” He croaked back and as he climbed into his car he had to remind himself once more that this was fake. “We’re not really dating.” He said aloud in the car. “Its a fake relationship.” 

But did people in fake relationships kiss?


	4. Casting the Line

As usual Will woke rather early on a not so bright Saturday morning. The trees surrounding his farm house didn’t exactly let much light through this late in the year. His dogs were stirring too and he knew that they would want to go out shortly before begging for food. He groaned before climbing out of bed and letting the dogs out the front. 

He downed awful instant coffee before getting the dogs breakfast ready. He would make do with toast after they had eaten. Zoe was one of the first dogs back in and Will cooed at her as she shuffled around him begging for food. 

“Who’s a good girl?” He cooed bending down to pet her. “Who’s a good girl? You are, yes you are!” She huffed cutely and rolled over. “Oh, such a good puppy.” 

The rest of the dogs poured in and he made sure to fuss over all of them telling them what good boys and girls they were before putting down their food. He fed them better than himself. Made their food from scratch even while he ate dry toast and choked down bitter coffee that was only good for keeping him awake. 

“Now, I will be out for most of the morning if not longer guys,” Will told his dogs as they chowed down. “I’ll be getting some suits. I know, I know. I don’t usually wear suits but this guy I know is very fancy and will be taking me to lots of high end places.” He sighed and sat on the floor to pet the closest dog which happened to be Buster. “It's for fake dates but I don’t want to show him up, that would be rude and well…” He grimaced. “He eats the rude.” 

He stood up, groaning as his knees popped. He was getting too old to be crouching on the floor with his dogs. He stretched, letting out a heavy sigh when he had finished and smiled down at his dogs. 

“Be good for me okay? And wish me luck. I’m going to need it.” 

  
  


The tailor’s that Will settled on had been given good reviews on google:  _ Fabian’s Tailors _ . It wasn’t overly expensive but did produce good quality suits. It's not what he really wanted to spend a lot of money on but he wasn’t strapped for cash either. His scientific papers made a lot of money and that was on top of his salary as a professor at the FBI college and the money he made with fixing boats on occasions. So he had enough money for a couple of nice suits. He would also need to get some good shirts, ties and well he also needed new dress shoes as well. His wallet would be crying by the end of the day and honestly, so was he. 

A small bell jingled as Will opened the door to  _ Fabian’s Tailor.  _ It was mainly just one large room with finished, half finished and suit materials draped/hung up everywhere. It also smelled strong of pompuri and Will made a mental note to have whatever he bought he dried cleaned before he wore it. He would rather not smell like a grandmother’s wardrobe, thank you very much. 

“Ah welcome.” A tall lithe man looked up from the counter. His hair was dark and cut close to his head and he unsurprisingly wore a suit. “You must be Mr Graham? I’m Fabian, the owner and Head Tailor of this establishment.”

“Yes,” Will replied shortly. He had had to make an appointment and had only been able to be seen due to a last minute cancellation. There was however something about this man that rubbed him up the wrong way. He didn’t want to look too closely though, it was bad enough that he had killers in his head, he didn’t need random strangers in there too. 

“Excellent, if you come this way then we’ll get started on your measurements and then we can discuss what it is you are looking for exactly.” The tailor pointed to a small platform further into the shop. 

Will took his place on the platform and stood uncomfortably still as Fabian measured him with a measuring tape. He stood stiffly as the man got far too close. Warm hands stroked over his shoulders, rould his ribs, all in the guise of taking measurements. He grimaced but kept silent. The sooner the man got the measurements to the sooner he would stop touching him. 

Will changed his mind about speaking up when the man groped his crotch. 

“Hey!” He threw himself backwards away from the man’s grabby hands. “What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

“Relax, Mr Graham.” Fabian had a smarmy smile on his face. “I am merely measuring you. The more precise the details the better the suit will fit.”

“And that involves groping my junk?!” Will was in half a mind to tell Hannibal about how rude this man was. That brought him up short. He hated that this man was groping him but did he deserve to die?

“The measurements need to be precise.” Fabian repeated and then smirked. “I need to make sure that the suit trousers don’t cling when you get aroused.” 

Okay that was it. He wanted this man dead. 

“I think I’ll be getting my suits from somewhere else.” Will curled his lip in disgust and made his way to the door. “I will make sure to leave you a bad review.” He called over his shoulder as he left, reaching for his phone. 

“You’ll regret that, Mr Graham.” Fabian shouted after him. “My suits are the best!”

Will ignored him and left the store. He sent a text to Hannibal. 

_ Will: Do you know a good tailor that won’t grope me when measuring for a suit?  _

_ Hannibal: Good morning to you too.  _

_ Hannibal: I would recommend Michael Schafer Clothier. I will give him a call personally and see when he can fit you in.  _

_ Will: thanks. I might need to just get a premade suit for the exhibit at this rate. I refuse to be felt up again. Apparently, the tailor needed to grope my crotch to make sure that the trousers would be a perfect fit.  _

Will put his phone back in his pocket and decided to go to a local clothes shop to get his shirts. He crossed the road and immediately bumped into Alana Bloom. She looked resplendent in a white jeans and a flattering pink shirt. 

“Will.” She said slightly breathless. 

“Alana.” He was confused as to why she was out of breath. 

“I saw you leaving Fabian’s and rushed to catch up.” ah that would explain it. “Anyway um, I wanted to ask how you were, we haven’t spoken in a while.” 

“I’m good, great actually.” Will rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets as he looked past her ear. It was weird to be talking to her after all this time. She had made a point not to be alone in a room with him for the last few months which he didn’t understand. He couldn’t think of any reasons why she was so cautious around him. 

“Really? Thats uh good,” She sounded so surprised. “What were you doing buying a suit?” What was with all these questions Alana? Although, Will supposed, he should mention that he’s dating someone. The more people who were aware of it the better an alibi it would be. 

“Yeah, I’ve met someone.” 

“Oh?” She sounded disappointed so Will took a risk and glanced at her face and instantly regretted it. She was disappointed that he was in a relationship, that he didn’t like her like that. Sure she didn’t want to date him but she also didn’t like the idea of him dating someone else. 

“Yeah.” He shrugged

“So who is she? And how did you meet?” Damn he should have asked Hannibal about what they were going to say if someone asked how they met.

“Uh, they’re a he.” He pointed out awkwardly. “And we kind of just bumped into each other and started talking.” 

“And? Tell me more.” She demanded and Will had never felt more awkward. He really didn’t want to be grilled about his love life in the middle of the street but the edge to her voice told him that he wasn’t getting out of this. 

“Um, his name is Dr Hannibal Lecter and he-”

“Hannibal?” She exclaimed. “You’re dating Hannibal?”

“Oh you now of him?” Will was a bit taken aback by her surprise. 

“Know of him? He was my mentor at John Hopkins.” 

“Huh, small world.” 

“Indeed.” 

They stood awkwardly for a little longer before Will decided he had enough. He was already exhausted from being assaulted by that blasted tailor and he still had lots to do. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you but I’ve got some errands so…” 

“Ah, right. Of course.” Alana nodded flushing. “I’m really happy for you.” Lie. 

“Thanks.” Will quirked his lips in a mimic of a smile before ducking past her and continuing on to the shop that he had been on his way to before he had run into her. As he stepped inside he felt his phone go off in his pocket. 

_ Hannibal: Michael can fit you in later this afternoon at 3pm. I’ll send you the address.  _

_ Hannibal: Are you alright? _

Wow that was quick. Will was impressed that Hannibal was able to get him an appointment so last minute

_ Will: Thank you. _

_ Will: I’m impressed that you got me an appointment on such short notice.  _

_ Will: I’m okay, if I didn’t have other errands to run I would have gone home to shower. I am definitely leaving a bad review on google.  _

_ Hannibal: It was no trouble. Will the errands not hold for another day? You shouldn’t force yourself after what you just went through. Which tailor was it?  _

Now, here Will had a choice to make. Did he tell Hannibal, the Cheseapeak Ripper, the name of tailor and basically sign the man’s death warrant or did he just shrug it off and merely leave a strongly worded review?

Will had never said that he was a good man. 

_ Will: I need to get some more things If I want to make sure that I don’t embarrass you at the exhibit opening.  _

_ Will: It was the Head Tailor from Fabian’s Tailors. His name was Fabian.  _

As he waited for a reply he looked around the shop and found some nice dress shirts. He got half a dozen in various colours and picked out some ties. He was very tempted by a navy tie with little tiny dogs on it. It was expensive but it was very cute. After dithering for a moment he decided to get it. He deserved that cute tie after the morning he had. 

His phone buzzed again as he was paying for his shopping. He waited until he was out of the shop to look at it. 

_ Hannibal: You could never embarrass me. Think no more of the tailor.  _

_ Hannibal: Do you still wish to go fishing tomorrow? We could cancel if you want _

_ Will: And miss the chance of seeing you in waders? Never.  _

_ Will: I’ll be okay, thank you and honestly fishing would only improve my mood.  _

_ Hannibal: In that case I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. _

The second trip to the tailors went so much better than the first. Michael had been very professional and although the speed order to get a suit ready for the exhibit was a bit expensive it was worth it.

  
  


When Hannibal pulled up to his house early on the Sunday morning, Will was more than ready to get in the water. He had dug out his spare fishing rod and waders. He had all his gear ready including the bait and lures. 

“Good morning.” Hannibal greeted as he climbed out of his car to find Will waiting for him on his porch. 

“Morning.” Will smiled. “I figured that we would take my car.”

“I must say that I am feeling a little excited for this.” Hannibal confessed as he approached Will’s car. “I don’t think I have ever been fishing. I’m more of a hunter.” He grinned showing off his sharp teeth. 

“I think you’ll like it.” Will said as he put the equipment into the car. “At the very least I will enjoy seeing you in something as inelegant as waders.” 

Hannibal just chuckled lightly and got into the car. 

  
  


Will drove them to the popular fishing spot that he had mentioned. There were already quite a few people at the lake when they arrived. Will led Hannibal to a spot that wasn’t overly crowded but still in full view of everyone. 

“Okay, here we are.” Will dropped his tackle box to the grass. “You’ll need to put these on.” He handed Hannibal a set of waders. 

“Of course.” Somehow Hannibal still looked elegant when putting on the cumbersome waders. It shouldn’t be possible but the man was able to make them look attractive too. 

It’s a fake relationship, fake! Will chanted in his mind as the man swept his silver streaked blond hair from his face. God, no one should be that attractive. He swallowed and hastily looked away. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll show you how to load your bait and then we can wade out into the water.” He focused on the task at hand and tried not to think about how heavy and focused Hannibal’s eyes were on him. Hannibal was of course a fast learner. 

Soon they were in the water and Will was demonstrating how to cast a line. For all that Hannibal was an excellent hunter and fairly decent at loading bait, he was a terrible fisherman. 

“Okay no.” Will snickered as Hannibal’s line lay limply in the water. “You’re doing it wrong.” 

“I’m doing what you told me.” Was he pouting? “I’m swinging it in the loop formation you showed me.” 

“You’re really not.” 

“I am.” 

“No,” Will shook his head and trudged through the water to reach Hannibal. “The way that your casting causes the line to collapse on itself.” 

“Show me again then?” 

“Here, I’ll do you one better.” Will stepped up close behind the cannibal. “I’ll help you cast.” 

“Alright.” 

“Firstly, you’re holding the rod wrong.” Will reached around the man to adjust his grip. He tried not to focus on how much taller and broader Hannibal was. “Then you lift the rod and…” He guided him through the motions, ignoring the flexing of the rather firm muscles under his hands. “There we go.” The line was cast successfully. “Now you just keep a steady hand and wait for something to bite.”

“Thank you Will.” Hannibal turned his head, his breath grazing Will’s face. 

“N-no problem.” Will stuttered before stepping back. 

They didn’t catch anything but Will did have to help Hannibal cast his line a couple more times. 

“If I didn't know better I would say that you were deliberately doing it wrong.” He laughed as he tried to untangle the fishing line from Hannibal’s latest attempt. 

“It's harder than you make it look.” Hannibal tried to explain. “And you didn’t catch anything either. 

“It’s fine.” Will grinned, pleased that he was able to do something that the cannibal couldn’t. The man struck him as someone who excelled at everything he put his mind to, so for him not to succeed at fishing...well it was freaking hilarious. “I knew we wouldn’t catch anything here.” 

“Oh?”

“It's too popular and crowded. It scares the fish.” 

“Then why is it popular?” Hannibal looked perplexed. 

“Because it's a nice piece of open water and the land owners occasionally restock the fish and if you’re lucky you’ll catch some before everyone else does.” 

“That makes no sense.” He complained as they made it back onto land. “Why fish where there is such a small chance of catching anything?”

“It's all about the experience rather than the result.” The droll look that Hannibal gave him almost set Will off into cackles. “Okay okay. I have a more private place that I like to fish where I actually catch fish.” 

“Now, that makes sense.” Hannibal nodded sagely. “And by keeping it private the fish are less likely to be scared off.” 

“Sure.” Will smiled and shook his head. It would seem that the man had forgotten that Will had only taken him fishing here in a public space as ‘date’ so he wouldn’t look cheap to Hannibal’s friends. Although it had occurred to him that they could just lie. 

They struggled out of their waders and Will took them back to his place so that Hannibal could pick up his car. 

“I hope today wasn’t too boring for you.” Will asked as he hung up the waders to dry. 

“Not at all.” Hannibal lent against his own car. “I found it very educational.” 

“Good.” Will bit his lip nodding. He wasn’t sure what to say next. 

“I’ll see you on saturday.” Hannibal pushed off his car and took the five steps that were separating them. Will froze as the man entered his personal space to speak quietly in his ear. “And don’t worry about that tailor. I have it all sorted.” 

“Do you need another alibi?” Will asked in the same quiet voice. 

“No, don’t worry. I have it all sorted.” Then with a quick brush of lips against Will’s cheek, once more far too close his mouth, the man left. 

“Fake dating, Will, you’re fake dating.” Will muttered out loud as he walked into his house only to be swarmed by his dogs. 


	5. 'Bring your Significant Other to Work' Day

Will had finished his lecture on the Marlow Family murders when he noticed a man stood in the cleared out lecture hall. He quickly put his glasses on as the man approached. 

“I’m Special Agent Jack Crawford.” The man came to a stop in front of Will’s podium. “I lead the Behavioural Science Unit.” Ah yes, Will remembered him. 

“We’ve met.” 

“Yes, we had a disagreement about the museum when we opened it.”

“I disagreed with what you named it.”

“The Evil Minds Research Museum?”

“It's a little hammy Jack.” It was a really terrible name, couldn’t they have called it something else? Like, The Study of Evil Museum? Wait no, that was just as bad. Will sighed and fiddled with the elastic band around his wrist. He thankfully hadn’t needed to use it today. He was getting better at not getting stuck in the minds of the killers that he lectured about. 

Jack smiled at how direct Will was and thankfully got to the point of his visit. “I heard that you can empathise with narcissists and sociopaths”

“I can emphasise with anyone Jack.” Will narrowed his eyes at the man. He had a feeling that he knew where this was going. “Less to do with personality disorders than an active imagination.”

Jack smiled and leant closer. “Can I borrow your imagination?”

He frickin’ knew it. 

“What’s the case?” Will sighed pushing his glasses up on his nose. He may officially be a killer but he still had a damn saviour complex. 

“Eight girls from eight different Minnesota campuses have been abducted in the last eight months.” Jack told him as they walked to his office. Oh that case. 

“Eight? I thought there were only seven.” 

“There were.”

“When did you tag the eighth?” Will wished that the man would just give him the information instead of making him ask for every detail. 

“About three minutes before I walked into your lecture hall.” 

“You’re calling them “abductions” because you have no bodies?” The girls were most likely dead, they just hadn’t found the bodies yet. 

“We have nothing. No bodies. No parts of bodies. Nothing that comes out of a body. We have lonely swabs in used evidence kits.”

“Then those girls weren’t taken from where you think they were taken.”

“Where were they taken from?” Jack asked as they came to a stop outside of his office. 

“I don’t know. Someplace else.” He shrugged. Work it yourself, Will wanted to shout. This was the so-called lead of behavioural sciences and yet Will was left disappointed. 

In Jack’s office there is a map of Minnesota with seven blue squares dotted on the map corresponding with seven photos of the missing girls. Will walks up close to examine the photos as Jack talks. 

“All abducted on a Friday so they’re not reported missing until Monday. However he’s covering his tracks. He needs the weekend to do it.” Jack tacs an eighth blue square to the map and hands Will a Senior Prom portrait. 

“Number eight?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. She looked just like all the other girls. 

“Elise Nichols. St. Cloud State in Mississippi. Disappeared Friday. Supposed to house sit for her parents over the weekend. Feed their cat. Never made it home.”

“One through seven are dead, don’t you think? He’s not keeping them around. Got himself a new one.” Come on Jack surely you’ve thought of this. 

Jack hummed in agreement. “We’re focusing on Elise Nichols.” Good, so he’s not totally useless. 

“They all look like ‘Mall of America’. That’s a lot of wind-chafed skin.”

“Same hair color. Same eye color. Roughly the same age, height, weight. What is it about all these girls?” He agreed.

“It’s not about all of these girls. It’s about one of them.” Will pinned the photo of Elise Nichols next to her blue square. “He’s like Willy Wonker. Every girl he takes is a chocolate bar.” He tapped the map as he thought. “Hidden amongst all those candy bars is the one, true intended victim, which if we follow through on the metaphor, would be your Golden Ticket.”

Jack sat on the edge of his desk. “Warming up for his Golden Ticket or reliving whatever he did to her.”

Wrong. “The Golden Ticket wouldn’t be the first taken and she wouldn’t be the last.” He shook his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “He would hide how special she is. I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like you to get closer to this.”

Will turned around and frowned at the man. “You have Heimlich at Harvard andBloom at Georgetown. They do the same thing I do.” He really didn’t want to be pulled in. He had a fake date later this week after all. He didn’t have time to be flown to Minnosota and back.

“That’s not really true, is it? You have a specific way of thinking.” Jack crossed his arms.

“Has there been a lot of discussion about the specific way I think?” Will felt his hackles rise. Just what the hell have people been talking about in the staff room. 

“You make jumps you don’t explain.”

“The evidence explains.” Will frowned hating how Jack made it sound like he pulled answers out of his arse. He’s not a psychic.

“Then help me find some evidence.” And when Will’s expression didn’t change from a clear ‘no’, Jack added: “Before another girl goes missing.”

Will studies the beautiful milquetoast faces on the map and sighed. He knew that he couldn’t say no. None of these girls deserved whatever fate they had met. “Fine. But don’t blame me if I upset people.”

“So long as you help me catch the bastard that is taking these girls, you could show up in shorts and Hawiian shirt.” 

Will smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

Jack rolled his eyes. “Just go pack a bag. We’re going to Minnesota to talk to Nichols’ family.” 

This was going to be a long week and it was only Monday. Will sighed, and agreed to meet him at the airport before leaving to get a ‘go bag’ together. It would take him around forty five minutes to get to the house from Qunatico at this time of day and then he had to find a sitter for his dogs. Ugh and he had better text Hannibal but that could wait until he was at the airport. 

  
  
  


_Will: Going out of state. Should hopefully be back in time for the exhibit._

_Hannibal: I had no idea that professors were given such globe trotting opportunities._

_Will: I had no idea you could be so sarcastic._

_Will: isn’t sarcasm rude?_

_Hannibal: You are correct. my apologies, Will._

_Hannibal: Have fun and be safe. Let me know if the trip over runs._

_Hannibal: Do you need help finding a sitter for your dogs?_

_Will: Thanks, and no it's okay, my usual sitter said that they can do it._

  
  


Will only spent roughly a day travelling to and from Minnesota. 

They had found Elise Nichols’ body. She had been lovingly put back into her bed, tucked in like a young child. Dressed in pajamas as if she had just gone to sleep. The gray pallor of her skin, the clean puncture wounds were visible under her pajamas, and her unbreathing bosom had been immediately evident to Will. It was clear that whatever the killer had done to the other’s he could not do to Elise. 

“It’s an apology.” Was what he said at the scene. The uncomfortable looks he had received from the team were annoying. He was there because he could slip into the mind of the killers that they hunted, so why were they upset when he did?! This was why he taught instead of being in the field. 

Back in his car on the way home from the airport he stared into the middle distance as he drove, hypnotized by the pavement unfurling ahead of him. His headlights reflected off something in the distance. It was moving down the empty road. Will squinted over the steering wheel as he approached, slowing down. Was that a…dog? He pulled his car to a stop and got out of the car, leaving his engine running. 

“Hey buddy.” Will crouched down low and slowly approached the dog. A rope around its neck suggests it was once tied to something. No collar and its fur was matted. The poor thing. He pulls out a hotdog from his shopping bag in the car. He had briefly stopped into a 7-eleven on the way. “Here you go.” He enticed the dog closer with the food. 

Will sat on the floor in his living room surrounded by his dogs. Winston, the stray he had just picked up, was thankfully accepted by the rest of the pack. He was currently curled up with Zoe with his head on Will’s lap. After a wash, a shave and some fresh food and water, the poor doggie finally gave into his exhaustion. Will fiddled with his phone. It wasn’t too weird to text the man that he was fake dating was it? 

“He should know about the newest member of the pack.” Will reasoned out loud. “Its the kind of thing that I would let my significant other about.” He bit his lip in indecision before finally pulling his phone out of his pocket and snapping a picture of his newest mutt. 

_Will: Meet dog number Seven._

__

_Will: I’ve called him Winston._

_Hannibal: A souvenir of your trip?_

Will chuckled and quickly found himself drawn into a conversation with the cannibal. 

_Will: I found him walking along the road on my way home. He had a rope around his neck, he’s too skinny and his fur is matted._

_Hannibal: Welcome back, my dear._

_Hannibal: It sounds as if he has escaped from a troubling home then._

_Hannibal: He is lucky that you found him._

_Will: I’ve given him a bath and shaved off the matted fur. The other dogs seem to like him too._

_Hannibal: That is excellent news._

_Hannibal: You must be tired from your trip, please head to bed shortly._

He wasn’t sure how he felt about the man. It was odd to have someone care about his health, especially when it didn’t really concern them. Maybe Hannibal worried because if Will fell ill he wouldn’t be a good alibi? Wait no, if he fell ill then Hannibal could always claim that he was at home caring for him and not murdering people?

_Will: I will._

_Hannibal: Good night. Sleep well, my dear._

_Will: Night._

He stared down at his phone, tracing the endearments with his eyes before turning off the screen. 

“Get a hold of yourself Will.” He told himself sternly. “The man’s a killer and you’re just fake dating.” He shook his head to get rid of all thoughts about Hannibal before carefully extracting himself from his dogs. He really should head to bed. 

He woke up covered in sweat, heart pounding from his nightmare. He searched his bed, making sure that it was empty of anybody but himself. He had dreamt that Elise Nichols had been sleeping next to him, pierced by the antlers of a stag and still breathing. 

“It was a dream.” He whispers into the darkness of the room. “Only a dream.” His night shirt and underwear stuck to him unpleasantly due to his night sweats. He grimaced at the feeling and flopped back onto the bed. His bedside clock said that it was only 3am. Far too early. He groaned but got up and changed into dry clothes before climbing back into bed. Hopefully he would sleep without dreams for the rest of the night. 

  
  


Will walked into the lab to see the members of the forensic team that he had met in Minnesota. Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price. 

“Curly piece of metal is all we got.” Beverly sneaks a flirtatious smile at him as he enters the room. He ignores it.

“We should be looking at plumbers, steamfitters, tool-workers.” Will, like the others, was also outfitted in gloves, an apron and a splash visor. He flips the visor down and his breathing is amplified in his ears as it fogs his vision. 

“Other injuries were probably but not conclusively post mortem.” Zeller turns to Katz “She wasn’t gored.” 

“She has lots of piercings that look like they were caused by deer antlers. I didn’t say the deer was responsible for putting them there.” Katz defends herself.

“She was mounted on them. Like hooks. She may have been bled.” Will told them absentmindedly as he examined the body himself. 

“Her liver was removed. He took it out and put it back in. See.” Zeller gestures towards the organ.

“Why cut out her liver if he was just going to sew it back in again?” Price ask incredulously. “Seriously? What was the point?”

All muscle tone in Will’s face goes slack as sinks back into the killers mind. It was getting easier and easier to slip in. “Something was wrong with the meat.”

Zeller looks up from the liver. “She has liver cancer.” 

The facts briefly ricochet around Will’s mind, then: “He’s eating them.” As soon as the words left his mouth Will couldn’t help but wonder if Hannibal had ever come across a similar situation. He probably shouldn’t ask the man about it. 

_Will: Hypothetically, if you bought a pig, and then slaughtered it for meat. What would you do if the meat was no good?_

_Hannibal: Good morning to you, darling._

_Hannibal: If the meat was no good then I would use what I could from the animal. It would depend on what was wrong with it._

_Hannibal: Why?_

_Will: Just curious, thanks._

So, it was obvious that the killer in this case cared a lot more about his victims than Hannibal did.

  
  


Will received a text from Jack to meet him in his office. He was expecting to chat more about what they found on monday, what he did not expect was to find Hannibal. He wore a red paisley suit. It was as usual tailored perfectly and he cut a ridiculously handsome figure. 

“Darling?”

“Hannibal?”

“You two know each other?” Jack exclaimed in surprise looking between the two men. Will knew that they looked like the opposite ends of the spectrum. Hannibal, sleek and well polished while Will looked like a man who lived in the woods with a pack of dogs. 

“Jack, if you had told me that the agent that you wanted me to psychological profile was Will Graham, I would have told you that I was unable to do so.” 

“Wait what?” Will interrupted and looked angrily at Jack. “Why did you want a profile done on me?”

“Being friends should make it easier.” Jack ignored Will making his lip curl. Rude. 

“Will, is my significant other.” Hannibal looked at Jack sternly. “It would be unethical to do a profile on my boyfriend.” 

Will blushed darkly. That was the first time Hannibal had called him his boyfriend. It seemed like such a juvenile term and yet it did something funny to his stomach. Fake dating, fake dating! He chanted in his mind as he met the maroon eyes of his so-called Significant Other. 

“Well that changes things then.” Jack sighed and rubbed his face. 

“I am more than happy to help consult on this case,” Hannibal told him surprising Will. “However, as I said, I will be unable to provide you a profile on Will.” 

“That’s fine, we could use all the help we can get.” Jack nodded. “I’ll let Will fill you in.” Wait, what? Jack was saying yes? Can the department even afford to hire two consultants? Was he even being paid for this? He made a mental note to check in with HR. 

“Excellent.” Hannibal smiled politely before turning and looking warmly at Will. “Shall we?” 

Will let Hannibal lead him out of Jack's office before making him stop. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Sure about what, darling?” Hannibal looked at him confused. 

“We have plans, remember?” Will gave him a meaningful look. You wanted me to be your alibi for murder, he tries to convey with his eyes. “The exhibit?” Did it make Will a bad person to prefer the idea of going on the fake date to helping catch a monster?

“It is unfortunate timing but there will be other dates.” He winked. Hannibal actually winked at Will. Will stared at him dumbly. What about his murderous plans? He’s putting them off to help catch a serial killer? That was weird right? Right?


	6. Eating Rude Pigs

A young girl’s body was mounted like a table top on antler table legs belonging to a trophy stag. She had similar wounds across her chest like Elise Nichols had as well as two large punctures in her chest where she was impaled on the stag’s antlers. It was somehow tasteful in the way that it covered her nudity. Dramatically there was a murder of crows surrounding the body as if they were dinner guests at the table. 

“Am I dreaming?” Will wondered out loud as he surveyed the scene. Hannibal stood silently at his back. He was a steady presence anchoring Will to the present. Will had originally objected to having Hannibal occupancy them to the crime scene, he claimed that it wasn’t right to make the man see the horrors that would be there. Of course, as the man was the Chesapeak Killer, he had seen and created much worse scenes but Jack didn’t know that and Will would have come across as a terrible boyfriend if he didn’t try. He obviously lost that argument. 

“The head was reported stolen last night, about a mile from here.” Jack came to stand next to Will. 

“Huh.” This isn't right. It wasn’t the same as Nichols. Will narrowed his eyes as he scanned the scene again. Brian Zeller, Beverly Katz, and Jimmy Price were combing the immediate area for forensic evidence. Will watched as Beverly and Brian Zeller attempted to shoo the crows away. It was too artistic and cruel...Will froze and slowly looked over his shoulder at Hannibal. 

Hannibal stood close enough for Will to feel his body heat, smell his lavender and sandalwood cologne and too see the amusement in his eyes. Will looked away quickly and shut his eyes. He sighed. This wasn’t done by the same man who killed Nichols, it was done by Hannibal. Damn the man. 

“Minneapolis homicide has already made a statement. They’re calling him the ‘Minnesota Shrike’.” Jack spoke completely unaware of Will’s epiphany. 

“Like the bird?” Hannibal asked, his voice rumbling in Will’s ear. 

“Shrike’s a perching bird. Impales mice and lizards on thorny branches and barbed wire. Rips their organs right out of their bodies. Puts them in a little birdie pantry and eats them later. At its leisure.” Price informed them from where he was chasing the crows away. 

“Sounds about right.” Katz agreed. 

“Can’t tell if it’s sloppy or shrewd.” Jack gestured at the scene. 

“He wanted her to be found this way. It’s the homicidal equivalent of faecal smearing. It’s petulant. I almost feel like he’s mocking her.” He tried to ignore Hannibal who seemed to press even closer to him. “Or he’s mocking us.”

“Where’d all his love go?” Jack asked, referring to Will’s profile for the murderer. 

“Whoever tucked Elise Nichols into bed didn’t paint this picture.” Come on, wasn’t that obvious? He wanted to shout. The two murders were as different as night and day. 

Brian Zeller looked up from Cassie’s mounted corpse and announced, “He took her lungs. I think she was still alive when he cut them out.”

Will has finally turned away to give his soul some relief and found himself looking straight at Hannibal. Jack and Zeller stood over the table that was the girl’s body with Katz and Price working nearby. 

Will didn’t take his eyes away from Hannibal as he spoke, “Our cannibal loves women. He doesn’t want to destroy them. He wants to consume them. Keep some part of them inside. This girl’s killer thought she was a pig.” 

“You think this is a copycat?” Jack asked, calling his attention from Hannibal’s uncomfortably proud gaze. 

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, the lies coming distressingly easy to him. “The cannibal who killed Elise Nichols had a place to do it and no interest in field Kabuki. He has a house or two, or a cabin. Something with an antler room.” 

“We’re already looking at Minnesota steamfitters and plumbers and people with hunting licenses.”

“He has a daughter. Same age as the other girls. Same hair colour, same eye colour, same height, same weight. She’s an only child.” Will tilted his head as he spoke. “She’s leaving home. He can’t stand the thought of losing her. She’s his Golden Ticket.” It's why all the girls looked the same, why there was no semen on or in the bodies. He loved them but paternally not sexually. 

“What about the copycat?” Jack demanded. 

Will purposely looked at Hannibal as he spoke. “An intelligent psychopath, particularly a sadist, is hard to catch. There’s no traceable motive. There’ll be no patterns. He may never kill like this again.” 

There was a small smile on Hannibal’s face as he asked, “Will he kill again?”

“Yes,” Will looked away from Hannibal. “This isn’t his first kill and it certainly won’t be his last.” 

“Great, just what we need.” Jack huffed. “Can’t you tell me anything else?”

“No, but why don’t you have Hannibal write you up a psychological profile.” Will calls back as he turns to duck under the police tape. He had seen enough. “You seem rather impressed with his opinion.” 

He didn’t wait for anyone to catch up with him and headed straight back to the hotel. Hannibal would be returning to the same room as him anyway. He had managed to get Jack to book them a double room to share seeing as they were ‘partners’. Will wasn’t best pleased to be sharing a room, let alone a bed with the serial killer. Sure he had planned on staying the night at his place but for most of the night the man would be out murdering and displaying a corpse and they wouldn’t be sharing a bed. 

  
  
  


Despite leaving the crime scene after him, Hannibal was already in the room when Will arrived. Will scowled at him. 

“Why did you do it?”

“Hello to you too.” Hannibal smiled genially from the kitchenette. He had sneakily updated the room that Jack had booked for them. “I’m making dinner.”

“Is the main ingredient from the field this morning?”

“Hmm it’s from a particularly rude pig, yes.” 

“Hannibal.” Will complained. 

“Will.” He threw his name back at him. 

“Why?”

“You needed help.” 

“Explain.” 

“On the plane ride over you mentioned that you felt you were missing something. So I wanted to give you a scene that directly contrasted what you had told me.” 

Will sighed and threw himself into a kitchen chair. “Thanks I guess.” He grudgingly told him. “It did help.” 

“You are most welcome.” He hated the smug tone in Hannibal’s voice. 

“So what is for dinner?” Will asked sitting up in his seat as he watched Hannibal cook. 

“It's a protein scramble. I’m making enough so we can have leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.” The smell of cooking meat filled the room. Will’s mouth watered. 

“I should hate you, you know.” Will pointed out as he shifted in his seat. 

“Oh?” Hannibal seemed to stiffen. “Then why don’t you?”

“I should hate you because you’ve made my life so much more complicated than it needs to be, for feeding me rude pigs and yet…” He trailed off taking in the sharp lines of the man at the small stove. It was unfair how attractive this serial killer was. 

“And yet?” He prompted. 

“And yet, I find myself wanting to be friends with you.” Will eventually settled on. He wouldn’t mind more but this was fake, the dating was fake and he knew that Hannibal was just using him for an alibi. Although why he decided to come along to help catch monsters like himself, Will did not know. 

“We are friends, Will.” Hannibal smiled and plated up dinner. “More than friends as far as anyone else is concerned.” The bastard winked again. 

“Stop doing that?” Will demanded as Hannibal put the plates on the tiny table. 

“Doing what?” Hannibal blinked innocently at Will. He was not buying it. 

“Stop winking.” Will accepted the food and picked up a fork to start eating. “Its weird.” 

“Rude.” 

“Oh heaven forbid I be rude.” The first mouthful of food was heavenly as the first meal he had at Hannibal’s house. “God this good.” He was definitely going to hell, if not for the murder of his dog groomer but for voluntarily eating human meat. He was a cannibal, a willing fully consenting cannibal. 

“I’m rather glad that you like it.” Hannibal started to eat as well. “As for the winking,” He smirked and shrugged elegantly. How he managed to make such a mundane gesture look so elegant, Will had no idea. 

“That’s not an answer.” He pointed out before scooping up more food. 

“Indeed.” 

Will groaned and decided to ignore the man and finish his food. 

  
  


Later when they were getting ready for bed, Will was suddenly gripped with nervous energy. He looked at his pale reflection in the bathroom mirror and worried. He hadn’t shared a bed with someone in some years. Sure he’s had sex but they were usually one night stands in motels, hotels or the other person’s house and he never stayed long after the event. What if Hannibal preferred to sleep on the right side of the bed? That was where Will preferred to sleep! Would they argue over it? Or would Hannibal graciously give him that side of the bed? Maybe Will should just sleep on the floor? Yeah the floor sounded good.

He took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom. He would sleep on the floor and everything would be fine. He was met with the sight of Hannibal on the left side of the bed in full pyjamas that were amusingly plaid like his suit that he wore that day. He was reading in bed. 

“Do you have a matching set of pyjamas for all of your suits?” He asked leaning on the door frame. 

“No comment.” His lips twitched before he shut his book and placed it on his bedside table. “Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to join me?”

“I was thinking of sleeping on the floor.” 

“Nonsense.” Hannibal sat up. “Don’t be silly, Will. The bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.” 

Will stared at the bed and then took a good look at the carpet on the floor. It had likely once been white but was now grey and honestly the longer he looked at the less he wanted to sleep on it. He sighed and gave in. He got into the bed. At least he got to sleep on the side that he wanted. He shifted around and got comfortable on his side facing away from Hannibal. The mattress was soft but still too stiff for his liking, his bed at home was as soft as a cloud. The blankets were rough, too rough really but he tried to ignore it and let sleep overcome him. 

“Goodnight, Will.” Hannibal’s voice was far too close for comfort. 

“Good night, Hannibal.” 

  
  
  


Will woke slowly. It was as if he was slowly pulling himself out of a pool of syrup. He was warm and the pressure on his body was perfect, it was just like his weighted blanket at home. Warm breath brushed against his neck. He blinked sleepily as his mind caught up and he realised that he should be feeling like this because he was on a case and he did not have his weighted blanket...Feeling more awake he noticed that the sheets hadn’t bothered him because they weren’t covering him. 

Hannibal was lying on top of him almost completely covering him. His face was buried in Will’s neck, a large warm hand on his chest and his legs entangled with his. Will blushed as he noticed his morning wood digging into Hannibal’s stomach. Oh god. So much for keeping to his side of the bed. And the worst part? It was the best night of sleep that he had ever had. 

“Good morning.” Hannibal’s chest rumbled as he spoke into Will’s ear, his breath hot against his skin. 

“Morning.” Will hated how high his voice was. “We need to get up.”

“Mhmm.” Hannibal hummed and nuzzled his neck. 

“H-Hannibal.” Will was flushed red and he cursed himself as his cock twitched. “We have a lot of work to do.” 

Hannibal sighed, his lips brushing Will’s skin raising goosebumps and made no move to get up.

“W-we need to catch the Minnesota shrike, r-remember?” Will stuttered. This man was the devil. 

With one more gusty sigh, Hannibal finally, finally lifted himself off Will. He twisted his body so that he was straddling Will, his hands on either side of Will’s head. His breath, despite it being the morning, smelt fine as it brushed against his face. Will couldn’t avoid looking at Hannibal in the eye. His deep maroon iris were just thin rings around his expanded pupils. Those eyes scanned his face for a moment before closing. The man then groaned as he climbed off him. Will felt ridiculously light without Hannibal’s weight grounding him. 

Will didn’t wait around and headed to the bathroom first after grabbing his clothes as Hannibal seemed to be distracted by his phone. He took a quick cold shower to wake him up properly and to get rid of his erection. An erection that was caused by his fake boyfriend. He groaned in despair and rested his forehead against the cold tiles. That man was going to drive him insane. 

Will left the bathroom to sight and smell of Hannibal warming up the protein scramble from last night. His mouth watered at the memory and he couldn’t wait to eat it again. He decided to pretend that this morning hadn’t happened and so easily made his way to the table again. 

“What time is Jack coming?” He asked as he sat. 

“He is deposed in court.” Hannibal plated up the food. “The adventure will be yours and mine today.” He smiled widely as he placed them on the table and joined him. 

“You’re really excited about this aren’t you.” Will pointed out bemused by the sheer excitement the man was showing. 

“Yes,” He made no effort to hide it. “I get to peek behind the curtain. I’m curious how the FBI goes about its business when it isn’t kicking in doors.”

“It’s not as exciting as you’re thinking it will be.” He warned. “Don’t get your hopes up.” 

“Oh don’t worry, Will. I’m sure that I will enjoy myself.” 

Will narrowed his eyes at him. That was a very suspicious response. He would have to keep an eye on his fake boyfriend. He had already committed one murder in an attempt to help him with the case. Who knows what else the man would do?


	7. Bird Spotting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter but only because this really should have been part of the last chapter...oops? The chapter next week will be longer

Will hadn’t really given much thought to why Hannibal spilled the box of files or why he disappeared as Will and the secretary of that construction firm picked them up. Although staring at the woman dead at his feet outside a suspect's house, he probably should have.

He glared at Hannibal but said nothing. He pulled out his gun and approached the door.He rammed into it, putting all his weight behind the action. It’s hard to say whether the sickening crack was from his shoulder or the door's wood frame. He gives it a well-placed kick, and another, splintering it little-by-little until he can stumble inside. He works through the house one room at a time, gun first. Silently he cursed Hannibal. He didn’t have any proof but he knew that this was the man’s fault. 

“Garret Jacob Hobbs? F.B.I.!” Will calls out. He follows the blood splatters on the floor and walls and finds his way to the kitchen. He freezes in the doorway at the sight. 

Garret Jacob Hobbs, the man that they were there to interview, was stood, wild eyed at the far end of the kitchen with his daughter held to his chest and a knife pressed to her throat. She looked exactly like all of the victims or rather all of the victims looked like her. 

Then Garret Jacob Hobbs starts slashing at his daughter’s neck. 

Will shoots. Hobbs keeps slashing so Will keeps shooting. With one last deep cut, Hobbs finally falls. Will distantly registers Hannibal stepping into the kitchen but he is focused on Hobbs' daughter. She struggles to breath underscored by the wheeze of air through her slashed wind-pipe. Will applied pressure to the wounds, scooping Abigail onto his lap. He did not want her to die. He could kill Hannibal later. 

“Here let me.” Hannibal takes over applying pressure on the wound. “I was a surgeon, remember?” 

Will begrudgingly let him take over. “Don’t let her die.” He orders with a point look. He hopes that Hannibal realised that they will be having words after all is done. 

  
  


Hobbs' daughter, now known to be Abigail Hobbs, survived. 

  
  


_ Will: We need to talk.  _

Will sent the text as he sat in the hotel room. The case was closed, the witness and possible accomplice was in hospital. Hannibal got to go in the ambulance with her, holding her hand the entire time as the paramedics took over. The man had yet to return to the hotel room. 

_ Hannibal: I’ll be at the hotel shortly.  _

Hannibal kept his word and walked into the hotel twenty minutes after his text. He looked as elegant and put together as always despite wearing yesterday’s clothes. Will wanted to hate him, honestly he did. Especially if Hannibal was the reason that Hobbs escalated to killing his wife and attempting to kill his daughter before they arrived despite never showing any signs of escalation previously. 

“Good afternoon, Will.” Hannibal smiled at him as he pulled off his coat. “You will be glad to know that Abigail will be fine. She’s in a medicated coma at the moment just so that she can heal without aggravating her wounds.”

“That's great.” Will smiled in relief but then shook his head. No. He wouldn’t let Hannibal distract him. “But I don’t want to talk about that.” 

“Then what would you like to talk about?” 

Will narrowed his eyes as he registered Hannibal’s therapist voice. “I would like to know what you did after deliberately spilling the files on the floor.” 

Hannibal just smiled and tilted his head slightly. 

“Did you tip him off?” 

“Yes.”

“Why?” Will was surprised that Hannibal admitted it so easily. 

“Because I wanted to see what happened.” He shrugged before regret clouded his face. “I did not however expect it to take the turn it did.” 

“Well it did Hannibal.” Will threw his hands up in the air exasperated. “A woman is dead, a girl is a coma and the serial killer is dead. All because you tipped him off just to see what would happen!” 

“I’m not sure why this has upset you.” Hannibal frowned. “You already knew that I’m not exactly a good person.” 

Will flinched as if he had been slapped. Yes he had known on an intellectual level that Hannibal wasn’t a good person. He was after all the Chesapeake Ripper, a serial killer who displayed his murders so yeah, he wasn’t a good person. On the other hand, he was also the sweet man who took him out to dinner and went fishing with him. Then again they were fake dates, just like their relationship was fake. He pushed yesterday morning from his mind, how nice it was...

“Of course, you’re right.” Will closed himself off. He wouldn’t let Hannibal trick him again. He straightened his suitcase on the bed. “I’ll be flying home this evening.” 

“I shall have to phone the airport to make sure that I am on the same flight.” Hannibal hummed pulling out his phone. “It would after all be weird if you went home without your boyfriend.” 

“Right,” Will grimaced. “How could I forget.”

“Will…” Hannibal looked up from his phone and frowned at him. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, Hannibal.” He sighed feeling tired and just so drained. He wanted to go home and cuddle his dogs. “I’m not angry with you.” I’m angry with myself, he thought viciously. Angry at how easily he fell for Hannibal’s charms and forgot about how they were only ‘together’ for an alibi. 

“I’m glad.” 

God, Will didn’t know whether he wanted to punch that soft smile of the bastard’s face or kiss it. In the end he focused on packing his things. He wouldn’t be ensnared again. 

  
  


It was two days later that Will walked through a hospital, the fluorescent lights glared down on him. He should have returned to the college, he should actually be teaching a lecture at this precise moment but...goddamn it he couldn't resist the urge to check on Abigail. Jack had pulled some strings to get her hospitalised closer to Quantico. He believed that she was an accessory in her father’s crimes and wanted to question her as soon as she woke up. 

He entered Abigail’s hospital room to find Abigail Hobbs integrated into an elaborate weave of life-saving technology. Sleeping in a chair next to her bed Hannibal Lecter. He was holding her hand, offering a tiny comfort. Will sighed at the sight and ignored the twinge his heart made at the sight and quietly sat in the empty chair next to Lecter watching his unconscious care for the girl they both saved. Well, that they both saved after Hannibal had put her at further risk. 

He hadn’t forgiven Hannibal for it but he was willing to overlook it. For now. It didn’t freaking help that Hannibal looked like a soft puppy when he slept and Will would always have a soft spot for strays. 


	8. Orpheus

Will picked up his suit two days late but the tailor that Hannibal had sent him to was very understanding, it probably helped that the case was splattered all over the news along with the fact that Will had killed the serial killer. The suit itself was a stunning dark blue twill suit. It would match the cute tie with the dogs on it. He could feel his wallet crying but he ordered three more suits to be made. He left the patterns etc up to the tailor seeing as he had done such a good job. 

Once he was outside the store he dialled Hannibal’s number. 

“I have my suit.” Will said in lieu of greeting.

“That is good to hear.” Hannibal laughed a little breathlessly. “Did Michael treat you well?” There was a sickening snap in the background. Will decided that he didn’t need or want to know what Hannibal was doing. 

“Yeah,” He nodded despite the fact that Hannibal couldn’t see him. “As we missed the art exhibit, I was wondering…” He trailed off biting his lip. Their relationship was fake. The whole reason for why Will had been going to go to the exhibit was to be Hannibal’s alibi, so why was he trying to get the man to ask him out again? 

“There is an opera performance tonight that I would love to take you too.” Will could practically hear the smile in the man’s voice. 

“What’s it called?” Will asked his grip tightening on his phone. Hannibal did indeed have somewhere to take him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that . There was a squelch from the other side of the phone and Hannibal grunted. Will was pretty sure that he was listening to the man dismember someone and yet it sounded abnormally erotic. He started walking to his car, phone to his ear and suit draped over his shoulder. The sooner he got home the better. 

“Orfeo ed Euridice” Hannibal sighed gustily as there was another snap. “It’s based on the tale of Orpheus.”

“Isn’t that the one where as they are leaving hell, one of them turns to look behind them and dies again?” 

“You mean the Underworld.” Hannibal corrects him. “But yes you are correct.” 

“Sounds good, what time should I meet you?” Will juggled his phone and suit as he pulled out his car keys. “Do you want me to meet you at the theatre or?” He managed to lock it and carefully lay his new suit on the back seat of the car before moving to the driver’s side and climbed in. 

“Come to my house at 5 o’clock.” Hannibal more or less ordered. “We’ll have something to eat before we go.” More squelching and a loud snap. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” 

“Goodbye Darling.” 

With a red face Will hung up and buried his face in the steering wheel. How could Hannibal so easily call him pet names? Especially as neither of them were around anyone to need the act. He whined quietly as his mind replayed Hannibal’s grunt as he snapped bones. Well Will assumed that is what was making the snapping noises he could hear. The grunt was sexier than it had any right to be! He shook his head and took some deep breaths. He had a few more things to do before the opera that evening and he did not have time to quietly freak out over how attractive the Chesapeak Ripper was. 

His first stop after the tailors was his home. He needed to hang up his suit so that it didn’t wrinkle. He hung it up in one of the rooms on the second floor of his house that he should be using as a bedroom but didn’t. He and his dogs hardly went up there so it was safe from dog fur. 

Next he went to Quantico. He needed to redo his firearms qualifications if he was going to be allowed to carry a gun on cases. 

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! 

Will unloaded the gun’s clip into the target. Gunshots in the stalls around him rang in his ears, but he's focused on his target, he needed to pass this test. He felt safer with a gun on him, especially when facing serial killers like Hobbs...and Hannibal but seeing as the man seemed to have no interest in eating him, Will was pretty sure he was safe. 

He pulled off his safety glasses, setting his pistol down. “How did I do?” He asked the examiner.

“You passed.” The strict no nonsense woman nodded at him as she wrote on a clipboard. “Congratulations.” Will liked that the line was delivered deadpan and that he wasn’t fussed over. 

“Thanks.” 

Thirdly he went food shopping. He went to a different store to the last one. He did not want to risk running into the asshole that thought it was fine to shove him out of the way to get to the check out. He also bought another bottle of over price wine to bring to Hannibal’s later. 

Then he finally went home to get ready.

  
  
  


Perhaps, Will thought as he rang Hannibal’s door bell, he should have bought a bow tie. He was dressed in his new blue suit and his new favourite tie: the one with little dogs on it. The opera was more a bow tie event than a work tie but he just really, really wanted to wear his new tie. That and he wanted to see Hannibal’s reaction to it. 

“Will.” Hannibal smiled warmly as he opened the door. Will watched as the man’s eyes scanned him. “You look fantastic.” His eyes lingered on the tie. “I especially like the tie.” 

“Thank you.” Will couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “The tie is my favourite too.”

“Come on in.” Hannibal held the door open and ushered him inside. It was just as opulent as the first time he had visited. “I’ve made us something simple.”

“I didn’t know that you could do simple.” Will teased. 

Hannibal just chuckled. 

Dinner was indeed a simple affair of fancy sandwiches with ‘mystery’ meat. The only mystery was that Will did not know who it used to be, Hannibal was rather tight lipped about it. 

Before Will knew it they were pulling up to the Metropolitan Arts Centre for the opera. 

“This will be the first opera that I will ever have attended.” Will commented as they parked. 

“Then I am honoured to be able to take you to your first.” Hannibal climbed out of the car and was around to Will’s door before Will had even finished undoing his seatbelt. 

“Thank you.” Will said bemused as he accepted Hannibal’s hand to help him out of the car. He ignored how large and warm Hannibal’s hand was around his, not to mention the hidden strength. The man was a beast. 

“I took the liberty of having us arrive later to miss out on the before show mingling.” Hannibal offered his arm. 

“Thanks.” Will hooked his arm through his and allowed Hannibal to guide him. “Is there anything I should know? Like is there opera etiquette that i should be aware of?”

“Not at all.” Hannibal led them up the steps and into the ornate building. “Just enjoy yourself. There will be a little mingling afterwards but nothing too strenuous” 

“I’m sure I will manage.” Will rolled his eyes. Sure he didn’t like people but that didn’t mean that he was incapable of talking to them. 

“I have the utmost faith in you.” Hannibal smirked. 

  
  


Hannibal had a box seat because of course he did. The show itself was good. Will wasn’t really a big fan of opera but what he was a big fan of was the rapturous look on his face as he watched the performance. Hannibal was the first stand at the end of the show to clap. Will joined him and couldn’t help but smile fondly at the man. For such a cold hearted killer, he certainly got emotional over fictional stories and music. 

As they were heading down to socialise Will’s phone rang. 

“Graham.” He answered it immediately when he saw that it was Jack. 

“We have a case.”

“I’m currently at an opera, someone will have to pick me up.” He sighed and sent Hannibal an apologetic look. 

“Fine, I’ll pick you up on the way.” And with that Jack hung up. 

“Sorry, Hannibal.” Will scowled at the phone. “It seems that I have a case.” 

“It's alright.” He reassured him. “Your work is important.” 

“I know but-”

“Will.” Hannibal stopped him. “I don’t mind.” 

“You will.” All his past relationships always ended because of his work or his dogs and despite knowing that this thing he had with Hannibal was fake, he was worried that it too would end sooner rather than later. 

“Perhaps at sometime down the road but right now? Right now I am going to walk you outside and wait until you get picked up.” 

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you darling.” 

They were met by Jack at the foot of the stairs leading up the arts centre. The man looked rather annoyed but didn’t say anything as Hannibal kissed Will’s cheek before opening the passenger door for him. 

“Be safe, darling.” 

“Get home safe.” Will shot back. “I’ll get my car when I can.” 

Hannibal smiled softly and shut the door for him. Jack only waited long enough for Hannibal to step back before pulling away. Will couldn’t stop himself from looking back at the monster he had just been on a date with. 

Their relationship was starting to feel a lot less fake. 


	9. Sleeping Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to be starting on the Mushroom case in this chapter but uh instead you've got this...
> 
> I hope you like it! <3

After Jack had picked him up from the opera, they had stopped at Will’s place to get his go bag and passport before heading to the airport. He managed to call his usual dog sitter from the car and drop Hannibal a text to inform him that he didn’t know how long he would be gone. 

_ Hannibal: Make sure you’re being paid overtime for these trips _

_ Will: I’m not even sure I’m on the docket as a consultant yet.  _

_ Hannibal: Make sure when you return to speak to your HR department. You deserved to be paid for job _

_ Will: I will. _

_ Will: I’ll talk to you later, we’re at the airport now.  _

_ Hannibal: Take care, my dear _

  
  
  


Will wakes with a small start as Jack Crawford knocked his knuckles on the window he had been using as a pillow. They were in Minnesota again. 

“We’re here.” Jack’s gruff voice reminded Will where he was. Will was rather annoyed with Jack. He hadn’t even brought him in for a new case, no, they were back in Minnesota to examine Hobbs’ Murder cabin. 

Will climbed out the car and stretched before taking in the eerie animal-skull covered cabin where Garret Jacob Hobbs committed his murders. No trace of the actual wall is visible through the bramble, now covered in F.B.I. evidence bags, barely concealing the antlers underneath. A cold wind rustled the dead leaves and added a creepy rattle to the sound track of the area. 

Will entered the cabin. He stared transfixed by the horrifying cage of bones that met him. Every inch of wall, floor and ceiling is obscured by layers of antlers under a veil-like evidence bag. Will focused on the bloody stag rack, cutting through the bag to look closer. He turned, examining the rest of the room. Will looked around the room from this horrible vantage point. The door to the little shack creaks open as Jack steps quietly in, a steady unease about him. Will doesn't look up. It was horrific and new fodder for his nightmares. 

“Could be a permanent installation in your Evil Minds museum.” He quipped trying to cut through the unease that filled the room. 

“What we learn from Garret Jacob Hobbs will help us catch the next Garret Jacob Hobbs. There are still seven bodies unaccounted for.” Jack said ignoring Will’s comment

“Because he ate them.” Will sighed. Seriously, why hasn’t Jack realised that yet?

“Had to be parts he didn't eat.”

“Not necessarily.” Will wanted to shout but instead made his volume match the conversation. All the man had to do was look around himself. It was clear that Hobbs used every bit of his kills!

“What if Hobbs wasn't eating alone?” Jack asked after looking around the room. “It is a lot of work. Disappearing these girls, butchering them and then worse. All without leaving a shred of anything outside of this room.”

Will considers that a moment, it would be a bit difficult to do all that alone. “Someone he hunted with?”

“Or someone in a coma. Who happens to also be someone he hunted with.”

Abigail. Jack was talking about Abigail. “She's a suspect?” He asked trying to keep his tone light so Jack won’t realise how much that idea upsets him. He wasn’t sure why it upset him. He didn’t know the girl, had only checked up on her once after the event so there was no rational explanation to why he was feeling protective of her. Perhaps it was because Hannibal, his fake boyfriend, had tipped Hobbs off which led him to lash out desperately and injure Abigail. Did he feel somewhat responsible? That was ridiculous, he wasn’t Hannibal’s keeper. 

“We've been conducting house-to-house interviews around the Hobbs residence and this property.”

“What's the gossip?” Will had to resist rolling his eyes. Gossip was not fact. 

“Hobbs and his daughter spent a lot of time together. They spent a lot of time together here. She would be the ideal bait, wouldn't she?”

“Hobbs killed alone.” Will said decisively. He didn't doubt that Abigail might have help her father lure in his victims or at the very least she provided him an excuse to go onto college campuses to look for victims. She was perhaps complicit in the murders, but Will didn’t believe that she had a hand in actually murdering them.

Will is about to point all of that out when he notices something on the floor. “Someone has been here.” He pulls out some tweezers and pulls up a long red hair. 

  
  


Later as Will climbed into a taxi (Will had to use a bloody taxi because Jack lived in the opposite direction and didn’t want to waste gas) He received a text from Hannibal. 

_ Hannibal: it seems you have a leak darling.  _

_ Hannibal: Tattlecrime seems to have gotten crime scene photos _

Will groaned and opened the browser on his phone before heading to that cursed website. 

IN THE MINNESOTA SHRIKE'S NEST: EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS

The latest article’s headline screamed out of the page with gruesome photos of the antler room. This certainly explained the red hair found at the seen, bloody Freddie Lounds. That cursed woman was like an infection, always coming back when you least expect it. 

_ Will: Thanks, just looked at it. _

_ Will: It explains a forensic anomaly at the scene.  _

_ Will: Also please remind me that when I speak to HR tomorrow that I need to be reimbursed for the Taxi home. _

_ Hannibal: You are welcome, darling.  _

_ Hannibal: Your boss didn’t drive you home? _

_ Hannibal: Your car is also still at my house. If you aren't too close to home may I recommend that you come to mine instead? _

_ Hannibal: That way you can drive to work tomorrow. I can wash your clothes so that you will have something clean to wear to work tomorrow.  _

Will bit his lip in indecision before deciding that Hannibal made a good point. 

“Sorry, do you mind taking me to an address in Baltimore instead.” Will told the driver. 

“Not a problem.” The taxi changed direction. 

_ Will: I’m on my way over.  _

_ Hannibal: see you soon, darling. _

  
  


Hannibal met him at his front door, looking resplendent in plaid pyjamas. Will felt rather bemused that the man would open the door while in his bed clothes but a quick glance at his phone showed that it was nearing midnight. The man had probably been in bed reading when he noticed the article. That gave him a warm feeling that he did not want to examine too closely. 

“Hey,” Will smiled tiredly. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.” 

“It's no trouble, Will.” Hannibal smiled welcomingly and guided him inside. “Let’s get your clothes in the wash and then I will show you where you can sleep.” 

“Thanks.”

The clothes were put in the washing machine and put on and then Will was ushered upstairs. It was as opulent as the rest of the house and was that a suit of samurai armour next to one of the doors? It was indeed. It was also the room that Hannibal led him too. 

“I’m afraid that my guest rooms aren’t suitable for habitation at the moment so I hope you won’t mind sharing with me again.” Hannibal said nonchalantly as if sharing a bed with him wasn’t a big deal. “You can borrow a set of my pyjamas too.” 

“Will they match yours?” Will asked dryly as he tried to hide his nervousness at the thought of sharing a bed with the man again. He had slept so well that night but...but wasn’t it weird? They weren’t actually dating so wasn’t it odd for two men to share a bed? To wake up entangled so completely with each other? 

“I unfortunately do not have a matching set available for you at this moment in time.” Hannibal actually sounded sad about that fact. Will was suddenly concerned that the man was going to buy him matching pyjamas for Christmas. “So these will have to make do.” He pulled out a blue set of similarly patterned pyjamas to his own. In fact they were almost identical, the only difference Will could find was the colour. Hannibal’s were red. 

“It's honestly fine,” Will took them from him with a small smile. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no trouble.” Hannibal looked at him with a soft expression. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed while I lock up?” 

“Okay.” Will clutched the blue plaid pyjamas to his chest with one arm, while in his other hand he held his go- bag. “Um, where is your bathroom?” 

“I have an ensuite through that door.” Hannibal pointed to the single white door on the far side of the room. “Feel free to shower,” Somehow that didn’t sound like a suggestion but rather an order, “There are clean towels in the cupboard under the sink.” 

“Okay, thank you.” Will decided to not wait for Hannibal to leave the bedroom and instead made his way to the bathroom. He felt that if he waited for the man to go then they would just end up standing awkwardly together. Not that Hannibal ever did anything awkwardly. 

The bathroom was tiled completely in black marble. It was odd but beautiful too. It completely suited the cannibal that lived here. Will placed the clean pyjamas on a little cupboard before digging out the towels which were blood red, because of course they were. He placed them to the side as well before using the toilet and washing his hands and turning on the shower. 

Will sniffed at the products lining the shower and found that they all smelt rather pleasantly like Hannibal. No duh, he thought to himself. Of course they smelt like Hannibal, they are what he uses! He must be more tired than he thought to be making obvious connections like that in his head seem less obvious… if that even made sense? With a shrug he decided to use Hannibal’s shampoo and body wash. He quickly washed his hair and his body before turning off the shower, climbing out and drying himself. 

He pulled on the pyjama bottoms before brushing his teeth, with his own tooth brush from his go-bag, before pulling on the pyjama top once his mouth and face was toothpaste free. He dried his hair the best he could before placing the towels that he used into the laundry basket in the room. After making sure that the room was as tidy as it was before he used it, Will went back into the bedroom. 

There was no sign of Hannibal. 

Will wondered if it would be rude to get into bed before the man was back...but he was so tired and it would be less awkward if Hannibal joined him while he was already asleep. What was wrong with Will, for him to feel so comfortable in being vulnerable around a serial killer? Too tired to think any more on it, Will climbed into the side of the bed that didn’t seem to be used. 

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

* * *

  
  
Hannibal moved his darlings clothes into the dryer once they were washed. Usually he would put them on for a longer wash but he simply didn’t have the time so the quick wash, only thirty minutes, would have to do if he wanted Will to have dry clean clothes in the morning. 

He made sure that the house was locked up before returning upstairs to his very own Botticelli Angel. He knocked on the door before entering, it was after all only polite to warn the man that he was coming in. Only to find that the darling had crawled into bed already. 

He smiled softly at the curls covering his pillow. He carefully joined the sleeping beauty in bed. He curled his hand over Will’s hip and gently pulled him closer, inhaling deeply. He grinned. The beautiful boy had used Hannibal’s own shampoo and therefore most likely his body was too. It was intoxicating to know that this man would smell like him all day tomorrow.


End file.
